Sunday, September 30, 2012

A lot of people who once loved Germaine Greer now think she
is a grumpy old woman. Having recently spent four days in her orbit I feel
ready to offer a few impressions.

Germaine and I attended the Brisbane Writers’ Festival where
she gave the opening address and proceeded to ridicule the festival, Brisbane
and all Queenslanders.

Twitterdom during Germaine’s talk was littered with counter
insults from audience members.

As for me, I was amused. I even laughed out loud on three
occasions. Why? Because whenever I see Germaine on the smaller screen or hear
her on the radio I am forever reminded that she was in the Cambridge Footlights
Review with a plethora of English comedy greats.

I always imagine that Germaine is having fun with us, and at
our expense. Even if she isn’t, it makes no difference to me.

Two nights later she sat next t Bob Katter and on the same
side of a debate: Is reading the bible good for you.

Bob and Germaine argued yes, it is. I’d like to revealBob’s take but I can’t. His incoherent ramble
was unintelligible. Germaine, however, was funny, eloquent, wise and, at least
once, a bit silly.

But there’s more.

I watched Germaine walk and it lead me to believe that she
is in a lot of pain and the day after her opening address I was lucky enough to
share a table with her in the writers’ green room.

Over lunch and conversation I decided she could be a bit
grumpy, somewhat arrogant, condescending and, yes, a bit of a know it all.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Before I leave the house I am very clear about one thing,
that when I travel things will go wrong.

This same understanding applies to life, but it seems the
odds increase dramatically when I’m on the road.

It came as no surprise then, to hear my name announced over
the Virgin PA: Would passenger Jon Doust please approach a Virgin staff desk.

There were only two of us at Gate 35 waiting for the
Brisbane flight and she didn’t move from her seat, so it had to be me

.

Here’s what happened: somewhere between the security
screening and the Virgin Lounge my wallet dislodged itself from my person, was
retrieved by another person, relieved of its cash component and dropped to the
floor, where it was retrieved by yet another person who took it to a Virgin
receptionist.

All of that is, of course, guess work. All I know is someone
gave my empty wallet to a flight attendant.

Whenever I lose money I always like to assume that the prick
who took it was a prick who could do with a dose of luck and a quick cash
injection.

But I also believe pricks shouldn’t be allowed to get away
with it, so I contacted the Federal Police to see if they could assist an incompetent
goose from a state with more money than theirs.

Two polite, heavily armed chaps turned up and we engaged in
a meaningful and constructive conversion during which one of them said: Not
much chance of getting your money back, Jon. This sort of thing happens all the
time.

Then we had a good old laugh at my expense and the current
state of Australian cricket.